


at the edge with you

by afhyer, IsleofSolitude



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beelzebub doesn't understand feelings, Halloween, Haunted House, Metaphors, Other, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), blink and you'll miss the sybolism, brief descriptions of a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27593108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afhyer/pseuds/afhyer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: Written for A big spooky fan zine.Beelzebub  is on vacation. How bad can it be?
Relationships: Beelzebub/Madam Tracy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15
Collections: ABSFZ Halloween Good Omens Works





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly so amazing to write. Huge shout out to Afhyer, who drew the most perfect drawing ever as a collab, which will be added in a separate chapter.

Kansas City, Missouri. October 30, 1975.

America was always a good place to visit for a vacation. At least, that was what the Serpent had said1, and now that they had come, Beelzebub was wondering the appeal. Yes, there were numerous souls who tread that line between appreciative and immoral, and more gluttony than the demon prince had seen in awhile–but then again, with their duties, it had been awhile since they had been able to come topside, and the noises and sights were more overwhelming than delightfully torturous.

Across the street, people were queued around the block. Above the door where the line started, large letters read out “The Edge of Hell”. People are chattering about something called a haunted house, but sadly Beelzebub sensed nothing supernatural from the five story warehouse. The people entering it felt nothing but nervous, sometimes in a good way and sometimes in a really delicious way, and there would be bursts of true fear every few minutes, but there was also an annoyingly amount of joy and fondness reeking from the place, leading to the scowl on their face.

“Did you get stood up too?”

The voice belonged to a younger female human, with blonde and brown hair sleeked down her face, bangs held to the side with bobby pins. Blue eyes twinkled as she stepped a bit closer. Jean bell bottoms were matched with a pink blouse that tied around her stomach, revealing the slightest hint of skin. She seemed friendly and helpful, optimistic and cheery.

It annoyed the Prince of Hell. “What?”

She smiled, gestured at the building. “My friends were supposed to come here with me, but they ended up wanting to go somewhere else. I just found out.” There was a brief moment of anger from her, and then it was suppressed. Oh, that would have been a lot better to be around. “Do you wanna go in together?”

“What.”

She giggled. “Well, it’s no fun to do one alone, right? At least that’s what they say.”

Well, Dagon had said to enjoy their vacation, and the Serpent had always tried to impress the importance of embracing new 2things…Beelzebub nodded. “Sure.”

“Really? Oh, okay awesome!” The woman smiled at again at them, and gestured. “Let’s hurry and get in line!” She held her hand out, but let it drop after it was clear they wouldn’t touch it. She set off, glancing over her shoulder once to see if they were following.

Surprising no one more than themself, they were.

* * *

It was almost like being back in hell, except there were no walls to lick or hellhounds to stare down. The sun had been down for barely hours, and a chill was starting to creep in with the lengthening shadows. They filtered out the irritating ambiance noise: cars, bursts of rapid laughter, drunken compliments, and focused their attention on the foolish woman who had invited them along. She rubbed her hands over the skin on her upper arms and smiled at them once eye contact was made. Beelzebub had to firmly remind themselves they were on vacation and didn’t have to establish dominance, didn’t have to stare down the impertinent demon who dared to forget their place. Even with the seconds of full malice, the woman didn’t even falter in her disposition.

Very well, this was apparently going to happen. Humans were big on introductions. “I’m the Prince– .” Well. Wait. Vacation meant not using titles. How did the mortals in this place name themselves? Honestly Beelzebub hadn’t thought they would need to use a name on this excursion. “B. Prince.”

The woman lit up. Beelzebub had to tamp down the urge to menace that light out of her. “I’m Jo.” There was a flicker of _something_ in her then. Interesting. “I’ve never been into a haunted house before, I’m really excited.” She giggled. “If you couldn’t tell.”

“I could, actually.” There was no sense in holding back the disinterest in their voice, but she just smiled at them some more.

“Have you, then?”

Any house the Prince of Hell went into tended to become haunted, so it wasn’t a lie to answer truthfully, “Once or twice.”

Jo rubbed her arms again, shifting, replying– something Beelzebub didn’t catch. Her skin was mostly smooth, but the crinkle of her shirt could easily become annoying if she continued, one more little ambient sound that was not quite Hellish enough to be familiar, and just earthly enough to be disturbing. Goosebumps were on her flesh, and around them people were starting to shiver. Weaklings, the whole lot of them. Sighing, they inclined their head and interrupted her, cutting through the rest of the line, Jo flustered but keeping up– both apologies and strides.

Someone in a uniform at the door stopped them. “Yo, man, you can’t just cut!” There was a chorus of grumbles agreeing with them. Their human companion stepped closer, hip brushing against Beezlebub’s fingers, and they felt a chill for the first time that night. Jo was situated behind them, so there was nothing wrong with letting a little bit of Hell leak out of their voice.

“I can do what I please.” A buzzing fly accompanied the words.

The uniformed mortal looked both disturbed and awed. “Wicked effects, dude.” He scratched his head. “I guess since you’re here anyways, it’s six dollars each.”

They were expected to pay? No. Were tabs still a thing? Could it be put on a tab? What form of currency was expected? Coins?

Just as the Prince was about to pay in wiles, Jo stepped forward. “Here we are, right as rain.” She handed over what looked like woven paper, and then they were stepping inside.

* * *

Haunted houses, apparently, were more cramped than the corridors of Hell. At least Hell had smooth juts and transitions, instead of bumping into the wall because it was so dark. Beelzebub’s corporation was one of the best infernal designs, and yet there was just barely light coming from the ground. Jo had slid her arm into theirs somewhere after the first turn3, and together they stumbled through. With the two of them, less walls were hit by one person. The walls were padded, and thankfully not slimy. Hopefully less tongues had been there. It still made Beelzebub feel gross at the thought.

After about the third corner, their eyes began to adjust. This close to Jo, the fact that the woman was a few inches shorter was obvious. Beelzebub was not used to being taller than those around them, and it was for this fact, and this fact only, that Jo was allowed to stay so close.

Neither was prepared for the brilliant light in the next part of the path, a flash from some device that looked so similar to their true form eyes. Jo cried out and Beezlebub grit their teeth, putting a hand out on the wall to reorient themselves. The next path was staggered down, Jo leaning heavily enough on them that the urge to shove them away built.

But then–

“RAWR!” Someone leapt behind them, screaming into their ears. Jo shrieked and drew away, and Beelzebub began to understand the torture they had gotten themselves into. Perhaps later there would be amusement in this tale, but as they bumped into another wall, the Prince just grit their teeth and resigned themselves to seeing this out.

Several more flashes of lights, screams, and tight turns were seen before they found a flight of stairs.

* * *

Exiting into the next floor, the first thing that Beelzebub noticed was the smell. Hastur was here? Unlikely, but it was such a unique brand of rancid that Beelzebub let their senses extend. No other demons. Then what was that smell. It was so distracting that they almost forgot about Jo, who hadn’t let go of them. That was the second thing, Jo had stopped shivering sometime on the stairs and was now radiating warmth. It was….unnerving.

The hallways were also different. They were still narrow, but now seemed to have a more enclosed feeling to them, probably due to the different textures that customers were to bump into. As little fake spiders prickled against their face, Jo shrunk back, burying her face into their shoulderblade, letting Beelzebub go ahead. It was annoying, but the hands on their waist made walking easier than linked elbows did, so they allowed it. Jo mainly had their fingers tangled in their vest, but the shape of those hands still pressed close. Beelzebub smirked, and each strand of fake dangling arachnids came to life in their wake.

The next hallway featured damp walls, and this made the smell even worse. The Prince hurried through this hallway, trying not to misstep and slam into the walls. If they wanted to be back in Hell, they would not be on vacation. Their path forward was made more difficult by random soft spots in the floor, making balance harder.

Jo’s feet caught theirs and they had to put a hand out to catch their balance. Not only was the wall damp, but it was squishy too.

“Sorry!” Jo straightened them up, but Beelzebub took a pointed step away, glaring at their hand, daring the moisture to stay. It didn’t. They walked on.

The human woman kept a foot of distance.

They found out that they had caught up with the next group of humans only by chance.

Jo was in the lead now, still chattering away on and off. To advance through this hallway, one had to squeeze between two soft but solid panels that were in the doorway. She had just gone in, Beelzebub waiting for her arm to disappear fully before following, when an air horn blasted right to their side. Jo was pushed out, stumbling against Beelzebub, as human couple came scrambling out, panicking at the top of their lungs.

Arms full of Jo, her heavy perfume driving out the rank smell, the demon couldn’t help but smirk. The visual of the human, arms flailed, being rejected from the doorway was enough to forget about the previous trip up.

“Is this the way we came?”

“I don’t know!” One of the two looked angrily at them, face flushed, apparently upset at the attention. Beelzebub used just the smallest hint of power to influence a decision.

“This way, then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, you questioning me? This is the way out.” That said, the angry one led the other one past the demon.

Jo started to say something, but Beelzebub shook their head and gestured for her to proceed.

Alone, Beelzebub let out a small cackle as the humans found the spiders. The screams made this vacation almost worth it.

* * *

The third floor entered into a dark maze, it appeared. Voices could be heard, calling out for lost members of their party.

Beelzebub liked this. They trailed after Jo, occasionally stumbling across someone who was close to their friends, and helpfully point them in the wrong direction.

There were also actors, dressed in masks and all black or red, who slunk through the maze and jumped out at people, inducing startled screaming or hysterical laughter. Sometimes they would sneak into the lines of groups, and separate them on person.

It was amusing.

“Hey, Prince, I think this is the door!” Jo’s excited voice drifted back as she hurried towards a small glow.

Someone else started to grab Jo’s hand and Beelzebub caught their attention. Their eyes warped and grew, and they opened their mouth to let their proboscis fall free. The actor paled and fell back, Beelzebub keeping their eye until they grabbed Jo’s small hand and followed her up.

* * *

The disorienting light was back. Somehow, fog floated; heavy near the floor, lighter the further up it drifted. the floor was a bit more open here.

They moved forward.

Jo’s eyes were wide, looking around. Eerie music echoed around them.

“Does this sound familiar to you?”

“No.”

“Hm, okay, I thought maybe it was from–” Beelzebub never found out what she thought, because the next second the human they had sense jumped out at them, realistic but very fake fangs dripping with a red substance, arms holding a cape in a menacing pose, silhouetted against a sudden spotlight.

Jo jumped, tightening her grip on their hand, and the actor said in a very awful accent, “I vant to suck your vlood!”

The light shut off and the person slid back into their hiding spot.

Beelzebub got a sinking feeling they were beginning to understand what this was.

By the time they had seen a mummy, two werewolves, a weird green creature in heavy boots, and miscellaneous witches, Beelzebub knew who was behind this.

Crowley had some explaining to do4.

* * *

The last level had the same fog and lights as the last, but the floor was even more uneven, wobbling in places. Mirrors were placed strategically, a fact they were not aware of until they walked right into one.

Jo had the decency to hold her laughter, so Beelzebub didn’t see the need to curse her.

“This doesn’t seem so bad, yeah?” She asked as they wandered through, carefully picking her way over a swinging bridge. Below the bridge was a well lit open grave, complete with macabre skeleton. It cast Jo in a spooky green light. Or at least that was the idea. Jo didn’t look spooky, just vibrant.

Nothing in Hell could be described with that word. In her pink shirt and jeans, the light emphasizing all the colors and shadows of her, it was just the only word that seemed to fit.

“Prince?” Jo was looking back at them, waiting for an answer.

“It has been adequate.” Demons do not hurry. Anyone who suggested that Beelzebub hurried past so they didn’t have to look at Jo anymore would be thrown into the pittiest pit to ever pit.

This floor was prime lurking territory, minus the intermittent painful radiance from the multifaceted hanging globes. Beelzebub didn’t lurk. Lurking was for Dukes, minions, demons of waste and decay. Not a Prince. Not a demon who had responsibilities. Beelzebub was over this whole thing.

By the time they stumbled to the exit door, Beelzebub’s eyes were hurting from the flashing. They tore it open and stepped through–

–and then they were–

–Falling, the floor was gone and the–

–Screams of their brethren were surrounding them–

–They were spinning out of control–

–They thudded to a stop in front of a cackling Satan, eyes red and terrible, flames surrounding them–

–Breathing was impossible, they were Damned, their Grace gone–

–All was lost to them, all gone it was all gone–

–Someone was laughing, bright and pure–

Wait.

Beelzebub came back to themselves slowly, curled up in front of an oversized, fake Satan complete with pitchfork. A sign plastered on the wall proclaimed “Thank you for visiting the Edge of Hell! We hope you enjoyed. Please exit to your right.”

Their corporation was on padded flooring, gross with dirty from previous haunted house goers. Someone was laughing.

Jo. Their eyes sought her out. She was laughing, bright and joyful, one hand pressed to her chest, the other braced behind her.  


“Bloody hell, I was not expecting that!” She gestured to the slide, and then, still laughing, stood.

Her hair was a mess and her pants had rucked up past her ankles. Hair was every which way in the back, but curls framed her face in the front, slicked to her temples. Her hands busied themselves fixing herself. “That was amazing. I’m so glad I came.” A hand was held out, nails painted orange with little white ghosts on the ring finger. “Are you hungry?”

Beelzebub stared up at her, lost. Took her hand, let her lift them up. Followed her out of Hell.

* * *

The diner was set off a busy highway, down a tiny road itself. The lights were bright in the night. Yellow dominated the color scheme, but white, black, and red accentuated the simplicity of the rectangular building. The smell of grease, eggs, and coffee filled the air, and the sterile white tables and booths were enough to get a side eye from Jo, who Beelzebub had figured was not “from these parts”, as the sweet older lady with sprayed up curls put it while seating them. A group of teenagers huddled around a jukebox, counting out coins and arguing over what to play.

Once their drinks (coffee for both) were on the table and their ordered placed (something called hashbrowns for Beelzebub, cheesy grits and toast for Jo), Beelzebub sprawled back, letting their body relax. Ever since the slide, they had felt slightly jittery, and only keeping Jo in their line of sight helped.

It also helped that for the most part, Jo was content with essentially talking to herself, with minimal input to her observations. She was just happy to not be alone, it seemed.

The jukebox began to croon, “This will be, an everlasting love.” The teens cheered and started back to their seats, one girl in a leather jacket stopping next to their booth, gesturing to Jo’s hair. “Stellar style, rock on!”

Jo beamed at her, then sipped her coffee. Beelzebub’s confusion must have shown, because she blushed a little. “I modeled it after Joan Jett.”

Beelzebub didn’t care, but nodded. “Ah.”

“I figured, yeah, she’s just bloody brilliant, and inspiring, so I wanted to kind of channel it a little, you know?”

The demon did not know. Their style, braids on the side of the hair, had not been based on any one person, just the style of society the last time they had visited Earth. They nodded again anyways.

“And it’s kind of silly, but I figure if I try enough things, then I can find myself, right?”

Jo’s eyes were alive with emotion, and Beelzebub didn’t hate it. “I suppose that makes sense.”

The waitress came with their food and topped up their drinks. “Need anything else, darlings?” Normally, Beelzebub would look into her heart, find her tired, desperate, and kind. On a normal night, the demon would fan the hints of shadow in her soul and let the darkness steep to a boil.

But tonight, their eyes were firmly on the woman in front of them as she thanked the waitress and dug into her meal.

The drunk group began to sing along to the song’s chorus, a messy “you’ve brought a lot of sunshine into my life, you’ve filled me with happiness I never knew” drowning out the waitresses calling the orders to the cook, who in turn made the stove sizzle and smoke to life.

Beelzebub shifted, leaning in to hear the inane, pointless words from across the booth better.

“So now that we’re friends, can I ask what the B stands for?”

“What?”

“B. Prince, you said.”

The night had already turned out odd enough, so Beelzebub decided to just go with it again. “Beelzebub.”

She started laughing again. “Fine, don’t tell me then!” She sucked the spoon clean of grits, and grinned at them. “I guess we are all allowed secrets. I have a few of my own, you know.”

Beelzebub knew, could feel them hovering just out of reach, easy enough to look and see. Instead, they raised an eyebrow, matching her tone. “You don’t say.”

Preening playfully, she nodded. Making a show of looking back and forth, Jo leaned in. Beelzebub mimicked her, tilting their head the opposite way. “For one, Jo’s not really my name.”

“I’m shocked.” Despite their completely flat delivery, Jo giggled, her breath sweet on the air. One lip curled at her reaction, and Beelzebub found themselves shining in the blue eyes.

“No, really. I figured this trip would be the perfect time to try out various names. Anytime I don’t know someone, I use a different one.” She leaned closer. “Also helps if i meet some creeps.” She tapped her chin. “Let’s see, so far the ones I like best are Martina, Loretta, Lory, Cassidy, Roxy, Jill, and Janie. Still have to try Tracy, Sheila, Blaire, and Morgan.”

“And how’s life as Jo?” Beelzebub wasn’t aware of either of them using a lower voice, nor how close they were getting.

Somehow their fingers were touching. “Well.” Jo’s tongue flickered across her lips. Beelzebub’s eyes stayed locked with hers. “So far, it’s been pretty good.” She tilted her head a little bit more, shifted to brace herself more on her hands. “Thinking the rest of the night is going to be…lovely too…” Her eyes fluttered close.

Startled, Beelzebub blinked, came back to themselves.

They pulled back suddenly. The diner was _loud_ ; drunks and children competing to see who was most annoying and tone deaf. The waitresses were perky and stressed, and the cook was intoxicated. The walls were dizzyingly white, the booth it’s own level of torture. The coffee churned in their stomach, and the hashbrowns fetid below their chest.

 _What were they doing?_ Drawing back as though stung, their corporation’s lungs drawing in breath harshly, Beelzebub shook their head, trying to clear it.

“Prince?” The human’s voice was heavy with concern.

No, this was…they were a demon, they had standards. _What_ were they playing at? This was a vacation, not an excuse to…to…

“What’s wrong?”

ignoring them, they started to slide out of the booth and leave. A hand wrapped around their wrist, an offense that would normally end in violence and terror.

But this was _Jo_ , so Beelzebub just looked at her and gently said, “Tracy is a good name.”

Then they pulled their hand away and left.

Vacation was officially over.

* * *

Hell was the same.

The smell and sound settled in around them, a crown tearing into their senses as they oozed into their chair, desk full of paperwork and discord to go through. The puddle to the left of the desk was still there, and Beelzebub stared at it. Their face stared back, bored and irritated. their empty hand reached up, fingers trailing thoughtfully through the braids on either side of their countenance. Nodding, they grabbed their phone and dialed.

“Crowley. I need you to bring me some information on Joan Jett. Don’t forget the pictures.”

* * *

* * *

  1. Crowley had said that decades ago, but what was time to an immortal demon? Beezlebub had more duties than ever in these times.↩︎

  2. not that anyone listened to him↩︎

  3. The Prince of Hell was so shocked that she dared to that the reward for the sheer audacity was to just let her↩︎

  4. Crowley, actually, was not behind haunted houses using movie monsters, but Hell blamed Crowley anytime movies were mentioned↩︎





	2. At the edge with you (artwork)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the accompanying artwork for this magnificent fic, the depiction of the haunted house.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a real haunted house. The only details it gave was the Satan slide, and that each level was meant to be a different type of sensory theme. i did my best with that.


End file.
